


A Dim Light in the Darkness

by LunaticFrench



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Beating, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Present Tense, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaticFrench/pseuds/LunaticFrench
Summary: Fandango meets his young neighbor, Tyler Breeze, on their floor. It wouldn’t be an odd sight to see if Breeze wasn't quivering and crying.





	A Dim Light in the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not a transgender person, still took the liberty to write about this community. I do hope not to offend anyone by doing so. Plus, this fic is really dark. Nothing graphic, though.  
> PS: English isn't my mother tongue, mistakes might have slipped in while editing...

It’s quite late when Johnny Fandango finally reaches his street. He hasn’t even had enough to take the bus, and this walk has awakened the ache in his injured leg. His hip is rolling him. He’s almost limping to his apartment building, his desire to plunge into his bed the only thing keeping him going. He reaches the door. He doesn’t need to use his key, the door has broken down months ago. There’s no elevator, but hopefully, he lives on the second floor.

When he opens the door of his floor, he notices the automatic lights are already on. His neighbor, Tyler Breeze, is opening his flat. It wouldn’t be an odd sight to see, if his key wasn’t shaking against the keyhole. Fandango stops and stares an instant. Tyler’s whole body is quivering. There’s blood on his hands and shirt.

“Hey, Ty’,” he says, making the other jump, “You’re alright?”

Breeze briefly nods, but doesn’t turn to face the brunet. The room they are in is small, enclosed. It doesn’t muffle the sniffing coming from Tyler. Johnny feels like something very wrong has happened again.

“Ty’, look at me,” he asks, voice low and soft, “Please.”

The blond shakes his head quickly. His shoulders are twitching. His breath is jolting. The hand holding his key falls limply at his sides. He isn’t moving, holding back his emotions. Johnny approaches cautiously and puts a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little, a sob escaping his throat. He squeezes his shoulder gently, a sad smile forming on his face.

“Come on in and I’ll patch you up, alright?”

Fandango has brought Tyler to his couch? Breeze hasn’t said a word yet. He’s trying to hide his face with his long blond hair. Johnny can see the scarlet painting his face, the purple circling his eyes. He wishes he was still an active law officer to be able to do more than heal the wounds, but that time was past and gone since he got shot.

He lets him a few minutes alone to grab the first-aid kit in the bathroom, but tends an attentive ear to be sure Tyler is staying put. He has run away more than once, thinking his situation was embarrassing somehow. He’d then lock himself in his flat for a couple days and avoid Fandango for a couple more. He probably knows Johnny is someone he can rely on, but thoughts get twisted after being hit for no other reason than existing.

Tyler has buried his face in his hands. He isn’t sobbing anymore, but his shoulders are low with all the hurt weighing on him. Fandango touches his wrist. It hurts to kneel in front of him, but he knows his ache will fade faster than Tyler’s. He finally sees his swollen face. His lip is open up as well as one of his cheeks. There’s blood in his mouth. He approaches the damp cloth he’s holding to his face, looking for any discomfort in Breeze’s gestures.

“How many were they?” Fandango asks to break the silence.

“Three,” he replies, a slight lisp in his words.

“They didn’t…” he cannot finish his sentence, but he always asks the same questions, so Tyler knows.

“No. This time, no.”

“Good,” Johnny nods, brushing the drying blood off his neck, “You’re very strong, you know? No broken bones, that’s impressive.”

It may not be all that impressive if Fandango wanted to be honest, but Tyler smiles at his praise.

“But you should be more careful,” he then asks, stilling the cloth on his skin.

“I didn’t do anything,” he retorts, pushing his hand away angrily, “I swear I didn’t. They’re the ones who started it. They were the ones calling me ‘too cute for being a boy!’”

“I know,” he nods, noticing most wounds have stopped bleeding, “But you may not want to walk alone this late at night. You know you should wait for me at the shop.”

“I don’t need your protection,” he groans, evading his gaze.

In a perfect world, maybe Tyler would be right. He grew up around these parts. Most people still know him as his old self and aren’t too keen to acknowledge that she has died years ago. They cannot face changes. Breeze is young, barely an adult yet, and he doesn’t see that sometimes it’s better to keep his voice down to be heard on better occasion.

“I know you don’t,” he confesses, standing up with difficulty, “But you worry me sometimes. I don’t like it when you can hurt like that.”

He roughens up his blond hair. Tyler hates to be touched there and looks at Johnny defiantly when he withdraws his hand. He fixes the rebel locks, a smile forming against his will on his lips.

“Alright,” he sighs and rolls his eyes, “I’ll wait for you next time.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Fandango finishes patching up his neighbor in a calm silence. Tyler’s face gains some colors again. He isn’t shaking anymore. His eyes flash with fondness and appreciation, eliciting a smile on the brunet’s lips. He hates to patch him up, yet loves to see this expression on his face.

“Alright, you look a little better,” he announces, going back to the bathroom.

“I feel a little better as well,” the other admits.

Most of the time, Tyler is already gone when Fandango comes back. Tonight, the younger man is still idling on the couch. He looks back at him timidly. His lips quiver, looking for something to see. Johnny realizes he may not want to go back to the coldness and solitude of his flat after drowning in the warmth of Fandango.

“I’ll heat up some lasagna, wanna join in?” Tyler looks ready to refuse, “There’s too much for one person anyway.”

“If it’s to help you out,” he shrugs.

He stands up, seemingly willing to prepare the table, but Johnny stops him.

“Let me,” he offers, messing with his hair a little more before planting a quick kiss on his forehead, “And sleep here tonight, I insist.”

It cannot give him much more comfort at the moment, but it’s enough for Breeze to see a dim light in the darkness.


End file.
